Collided, Enfolded, Indivisible
by ameliaithink
Summary: "Did you love Annie right away, Finnick?" "No... She crept up on me." The story of Finnick Odair and his poor, mad girl.


Chapter One

* * *

With a sigh, Finnick dragged himself out of bed. He stretched and glanced in the mirror above the fireplace in his bedroom, his usually tousled hair looking especially messy after his night. Pulling a soft, white feather from his hair, he surveyed his bed with a smirk, noticing a torn pillow with the feathers spilling out onto floor. Some of the secrets he'd learnt were well worth having to sell his body, and while he didn't usually enjoy such a degrading job, the secret the woman told him last night was bound to be of some use one day.

The woman from last night had left a trail of feathers leading from the bedroom to the bathroom, which Finnick followed with an amused smile playing on his lips. A trail of water from the shower led him to his kitchen downstairs, where the woman had clearly helped herself to bacon and eggs. The unwashed plate remained on the table, along with a glass of orange juice, still half-full. She was nowhere to be seen. Finnick figured she'd left earlier that morning.

The smirk on Finnick's face was matched by him laughing incredulously as he went to tidy away the woman's breakfast. Under her plate was a note, reading; "Maybe next time you can tell me your secret" above her name and phone number.

"Maybe not," Finnick scoffed aloud, throwing it in his bin along with her breakfast.

He made himself a quick breakfast with the remaining bacon and egg and took a shower. As he pulled on his jeans in his bedroom, he noticed a piece of paper folded in the pocket; his agenda for today.

His heart dropped as he read his eleven o'clock appointment; he was to catch the 11:07 train from the Capitol train station.

With a sigh, he dropped the note and massaged his temple, taking steadying breaths. How could he have forgotten? Double checking on his calendar, which contained pictures of the Justice Building in every District, he saw it in red print on the next day's date. The Reaping was tomorrow.

He quickly packed a bag and left it by the door. He moved to the kitchen and downed a shot of vodka, then another. Then another. The light pressure of the alcohol in his head after fifteen minutes ensured he could deal with the painful day to come.

"Good morning, Finnick," Xena greeted warmly. "Have you had a nice break in the Capitol?"

"Of course, but life in the City gets hectic. It'll be nice to spend a day away from it all, back home," Finnick admitted, looking forward to a night where he was not expected to bed a woman.

"We have a great array of tributes this year, all very well-trained indeed!" Xena enthused. Finnick nodded appreciatively, "It'd be nice to have a winner this year," he mused. Finnick's own personal aim was to be responsible for as little deaths as possible. Last year had been catastrophic, with both tributes making allies with a male from 8, against Finnick's warnings. The male tortured them, killing them very slowly. Finnick felt responsible for the pain and suffering they had been put through. This year, he'd make it up to himself and bring someone back to Four as a victor, not in a coffin.

As the train rolled up, Finnick snatched up both his and Xena's bags, which absolutely delighted her. He smirked at the grin plastered on her face, one that she thought he hadn't seen. An Avox took the bags from Finnick's hands as they stepped on the train, her fingers brushing his and causing him to shudder with what felt like guilt.

Finnick settled down in his bedroom carriage and found himself indifferent to the splendour of the train, made up of perfectly polished glass, marble, oak and handmade, intricate rugs with delicate patterns spiralling the floor. It was luxurious without being tacky. The grandeur of the trains awed most tributes. They always glared jealously at the decor, wishing they'd known such luxury for longer- before their inevitable death.

Finnick met Xena in the dining carriage at 12:30, where they ate a delicious five course meal, consisting of soup, a twist of pastry covered in a tomato garnish, followed by steak, potato and green beans with a black pepper sauce. After that, Finnick and Xena were presented with a dessert of profiteroles, finally followed by coffee and mints.

"I'll never tire of the food, that's for sure," Finnick pushed his plate away and loosened his belt. Xena's eyes greedily dipped below the table to examine his unbuckled belt. Much to her embarrassment, she was greeted by Finnick looking at her uncomfortably with a raised eyebrow. "It comes at a price," he murmured, irritated, before leaving the table without excusing himself.

She didn't bother him again until they arrived at District 4 the following morning.

"About what happened..." She began. Finnick laughed. "No worries, I wasn't in the best of moods, that's all!" He studied her expression and let his eyes wander. She was wearing a hot pink, ornate blouse with ruffles down the side, drawing attention to how she had three buttons undone and a fair amount of cleavage on display. The shoulders of the blouse were padded and pointed. It was tight on the body and flared into a peplum at the waist. She was wearing a tight, black, pencil skirt which came to her knees and shocking pink stiletto heels that she wobbled on. A mass of lilac hair sat on her head, tied in a neat bow. Only the centre of her lips were coated in blood red lip stick, making the shape of a heart. She blushed furiously under Finnick's appraisal but he just smiled again and popped a sugar cube in his mouth, before leaving the train station.

Finnick wasn't quite sure why he felt so nervous to be home. He'd only been gone for two weeks, but it seemed different this time. He put it down to it being due to the fact that it was time for the Reaping. Ignoring the slight weight in his head following the vodka he'd downed the previous day, he made his way to the Justice Building, Xena following shortly behind. The sun glared on his back through his white shirt. The Peacekeepers searched him and his bag as part of a routine check, allowing him through to the lounge when he was given the all clear.

This lounge was one of many, situated on the first floor. It was all mahogany and leather. Mahogany floors, mahogany walls, mahogany chests, drawers and tables. There was a quilted three-piece suit made of red leather, gold buttons between the raised sections and mahogany legs- of course. A matching chaise lounge sat unattended by the window. The light filtered in through the lace curtains, dust motes drifting lazily through the bars of light. Finnick moved to the window and instantly regretted it as he looked out and saw thousands of children stood waiting. The youngest were crying for their mothers, clinging onto the skirts of older sisters or shirts of older brothers. The eldest were stony faced and blank, expressionless. How cruel it was to steal childhood from so many young people.

Mags, the eldest surviving victor of The Hunger Games, who had mentored Finnick, moved behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You always look out, Finnick. You should know by now not to look out of the window," she sighed. Finnick said nothing, instead holding out his hand and murmuring: "Sugar cube, Mags?"

"Don't eat sugar cubes, my boy. Your teeth will fall out like mine." She chuckled at this and shuffled to the red armchair, still laughing five minutes after she'd sat down.

Half an hour later, they were sat on stage in front of thousands of children, all terrified, awaiting fate. Xena's voice trilled through the microphone, introducing Finnick and Mags who waved graciously and smiled as if they were thrilled to be there.

"And now, without further delay," Xena squeaked, "Let us select our tributes for the 64th annual Hunger Games!"

As Xena wobbled over to the bowl on the right, Finnick watched the ripples of fear spread through the faces of the girls. There were, of course, a select few who had pushed their way to the front and had eyes gleaming with hope; greedily dreaming their chance to become millionaires. To them it seemed easy... all they had to do was escape death.

"Annie Cresta!" Xena beamed into the crowd and spied a young, fragile girl that everyone had stepped away from. All at once, the crowd erupted with laughter. No-one volunteered. Not even the girls who had seemed so eager. There was a visible sigh of relief from the other girls; the ones who had another year to live.

A girl who Finnick had noticed earlier, appeared strong and had a very pretty face - perfect for the Games - shouted as Annie Cresta timidly stepped up to the stage. "This'll teach you for dropping out, Cresta!" She grinned evilly.

"Oh, hush!" Xena scolded. "Good morning, Annie. Welcome to the Hunger Games."

Finnick leapt out of his seat as Xena announced the name of the male tribute and managed to get his arms around Annie just before she hit the ground. He steadied her and led her to his seat, crouching down and levelling his eyes with hers. "You're gonna be just fine, Annie," he smiled at the dizzy girl. "Sugar cube?" He offered. Her eyebrows furrowed with confusion and she shook her head slightly, seeming unsure.

"It's an odd question to ask," he murmured. "And a very odd thing to offer. But I think I'm addicted to sugar cubes, you see, Annie. Take one!" He insisted, laughing as he did so. "They're good. You'll be addicted too," he grinned and placed a cube in her hand, squeezing it for reassurance briefly.

"Can this year's tributes please step forward and shake hands?" Xena gave Finnick an odd look, but he just shrugged and helped Annie up. She shook hands with the towering male tribute, whose name was Zacharias, one hand clenched into a fist around the first sugar cube Finnick Odair ever gave her.

Annie Cresta received no visitors during the time they were allowed in the Justice Building. She put up no resistance as she was led to the train station and resigned immediately to her designated sleeping carriage. Finnick was overwhelmed by guilt at seeing this.

"You're not to blame," Mags said tiredly. "Stop pacing, you're making my head spin. It's my fault as much as it's your fault Finnick, but we were once tributes like them. It's just how things are and the sooner you accept that, the better!"

"Go and talk to her, Mags. Find out her story. I'll go and speak to Zacharias," Finnick sighed and left the dining carriage, popping a sugar cube in his mouth as he did so. He knocked rapidly on Zacharias' sleeping carriage, unable to stay still.

"Hey, man!" The male tribute was cheery, which was a relief of sorts.

"Zacharias, hello."

"Call me Zach, it's less of a mouthful," he offered his hand and shook Finnick's firmly.

"Sure, Zach, how are you feeling?" Finnick stepped into the sleeping carriage and pulled out an armchair.

"I'm confident. I've been trained for this since I was seven, y'know? I've got this. I just want to do my mother proud, she's paid for my training and I want her to know it's paid off. I may not win but I'll do well," he spoke so fast that Finnick wondered if he meant it, or whether this was the sort of thing he'd spiel out in an interview. Either way, it didn't really matter.

"Can I ask you something?" Zach continued. Finnick nodded, fiddling with a sugar cube in his hand. Zach paused for a moment but then continued; "Which weapon is the best?"

Finnick sighed and turned into mentor-mode. "It depends on your strengths and weaknesses. I chose a trident and nets because I knew how to fish. I could detach myself from the fact that I was killing a human and instead imagine I was elsewhere."

"I'll have no problem with killing, Finn," Zach smirked.

"It's a benefit for you to go into the Games with that attitude. As long as you stay detached you'll be fine. And it's Finnick," he muttered. "What did you specialise in back home?"

"I majored in swordsmanship and minored in survival," he told him. "It was a low pass in survival, though. Damn plants that confused the hell out of me!" His fists clenched.

"No problem, we have plenty of time to work on that," Finnick lied. "So, focus on swords. Can you throw?"

"Fatal hits from thirty feet," Zach grinned smugly. Finnick raised his eyebrows. "You'll have no problem, don't worry about it. We'll find you some good allies and you could even win this thing," Finnick stood up to leave. Zach called him just before he got out the door. "Don't make me go with Annie," he groaned. "She dropped out of training last year because she flunked everything. Everyone back home thinks she's anti-Capitol. It's not a great imagine."

It was Finnick's turn to clench his fists. "You stick together," he muttered. "And that's final."

Finnick, Mags, Annie, Zach and Xena's lunch together was eaten in silence.

"Good food, huh?" Mags grinned. "The Capitol's smoked salmon is my favourite. I get this imported every week," she continued, seeming unaware that no-one was responding. Or caring. Even Xena was seemingly absorbed with an impressively tough piece of fish. "And the wine is divine, I could eat the salmon and drink this wine every day for the rest of my life."

"Mags," Finnick sighed. "Let the kids eat. It's a lot to take in."

Lunch time was usually the period that even the cockiest of tributes felt a sense of poignant. They realised that the lunch before this could well have been their last ever lunch in District Four. This was where they decided if they were fighters or if they were going to flee.

"How many do you eat a day?" A quiet voice made Finnick snap out of his contemplation. His blue eyes were met with big green ones. "I... I'm sorry..." He stuttered.

"Sugar cubes," she clarified, blushing crimson. "How many sugar cubes do you eat a day?"

He rose an eyebrow and laughed, "I've never counted, but I'll start counting now and we can work out the average before you start the Games."

Annie smiled politely and Finnick mentally kicked himself for bringing up the Games.

After lunch, Finnick and Mags sat down with the tributes in a carriage designed to act as a living room, equipped with a television, sofa, armchair, coffee table and other luxuries.

Annie looked around warily, as if expecting to be attacked. She didn't know what was going to happen to her, but she knew she wouldn't survive.

Finnick sat down on the coffee table in front of her and Zacharias and rested his head in his hands for a moment, then dragged his fingers through his hair and sighed. She was ashamed, given her current situation, to find him incredibly attractive. He met her gaze and she quickly looked away towards Zach, at whom she smiled politely, before watching Mags settle in an armchair and look around expectantly. "And our first order of business, Finnick?"

Xena scuttled in and stood with her hand on her hip, leaning against the armchair Mags was sat in. She beamed at Annie and Zach then turned her attention to Finnick, who was yet to answer.

"We have to establish that we are a team. Is that understood?" Finnick looked sheepishly at the tributes and Annie managed a small nod. He smiled at her, then continued. "So, in this room I have hidden twelve sugar cubes," at this he winked at Annie who blushed and moved further backwards into the sofa, willing it to envelop her.

"Whatever differences we may have is pushed aside now, you understand?" He glanced at Zach who suddenly found the pattern of the carpet extremely interesting, or so it would seem, as he fixed his gaze to the floor.

"Annie, would you care to step out of the room with me for a second?" Finnick smiled. "I'll tell you where the first 6 sugar cubes are and it'll be your job to lead Zach to them, who will be blindfolded."

Annie tentatively took Finnick's outstretched hand and could only hope that hers wasn't clammy. He closed the door behind them and led her away from earshot. He leant in to whisper to her, his breath tickling her neck and causing goosebumps to ripple over her body.

"You've got this, Annie," he murmured after telling her where the cubes were hidden. His fingers skirted along her waist, finding the small of her back. It was the breath catching in her throat that caused him to fall back to reality. "I-I'm sorry..." He stuttered. "You can go back in now."

Annie took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she turned away from him. What the hell was that about? She entered the room to find a blindfolded Zach been spun around three times.

"Okay, Annie. He's in your hands now," Mags winked, leaving the girl out of her depths and blushing red.

Annie was timid at first, mixing up her left and right much to her own embarrassment - and to Finnick and Mags' amusement. After a while the game became amusing and as Zach collected the last sugar cube from Mags' hand, he ripped off his blindfold and spun Annie round in his arms, both in fits of laughter. That was the first instance in a very long time that Annie had laughed. How ironic that she should find joy in her numbered days.

Xena slipped the blindfold over Annie's eyes as Finnick left with Zach. She felt increasingly awkward as the silence in the room persisted, which she tried to break with a cough. They began spinning her around when Finnick re-entered and she hoped the awkwardness would wear off as it had previously. Zach was seemingly even more hopeless at giving directions than Annie, causing her to bump into chairs and tables.

"Another step forward!" Zach instructed. Annie tentatively stepped forward, arms outstretched. "Keep going... Keep going... Okay. Raise your hand. Feel..." Zach sniggered as Annie's hands brushed an arm and face. It took a second to register in Annie's mind that the arm she was touching was Finnick's and the jawline she'd just traced was Finnick's too.

"Zach..." She sighed, stepping away.

"He's got the last one, Annie! Step forward and feel again."

She stifled a groan and raised her arms again, one hand resting on Finnick's chest and another on his shoulder. Zach tried to direct her hand to the correct place but gave up, leaving her to blindly touch her mentor. Her fingers shakily traced from his ear down his jawline, danced over his chin and timidly skated up to his lips. She felt them curl into a smile as she tugged the sugar cube from between his teeth. He untied her blindfold and she was furious. Furious that he was having some profound effect on her. Furious that he seemed to know this and exploited it. She met Finnick's bemused gaze and, unfaltering and unblinking, popped the sugar cube she'd just retrieved into her mouth.

"Finnick. A word please." Xena's stern voice made Annie remember the presence of others in the room. Finnick followed Xena out of the room and closed the door behind him.

"Professional relationships, Finnick! None of this flirting. I know it must be hard for you," she hissed, her voice oozing with sarcasm. "She's a seventeen year old girl! We don't need any drama. Keep it under control."

"There's absolutely no flirting going on, Xena..." Finnick's voice was low. Xena made some noises of protest before a muffled sigh escaped her mouth, muted by Finnick's lips on hers.

Annie decided to move away from the door, blushing furiously. "We weren't flirting..." She insisted, looking anxiously at Mags and Zach.

"Even if you were, he probably wouldn't have reciprocated," Zach raised his eyebrows, hurriedly adding that she shouldn't take offence. Annie laughed in agreement but kicked herself on the inside. As if Finnick Odair would flirt with her. How ridiculous. She left the living room carriage to see Finnick and Xena slip inside a room by themselves. It made her feel sick to the core. What a creep. Maybe he was so used to female attention that playing with emotions was second nature to him. She stormed to her room and decided to take a shower in the luxurious Capitol-designed shower, with 13 different settings, 17 different scents and a vast array of other novelties.

Once Annie was dry, she met Zach and the others in the dining carriage for dinner. Naturally, it was a feast fit for President Snow, with seven courses and the finest wine in all of Panem.

It started with tomato soup and bread, followed by a ham and goats cheese salad. An Avox then presented Annie with a choice of either lobster or veal. When she couldn't decide, Finnick recommended the lobster. With a stony face she ordered the veal, causing the Avox's lips to flicker with amusement slightly. The veal was followed by a cheese board, but Annie only ate the grapes and nibbled on the crackers. They then brought out an enormous ice cream sundae for them all to share, consisting of chocolate ice cream, brownies, cookie dough , honey comb, fudge, whipped cream and strawberries. The plate was cleared within ten minutes. The final course was hot drinks and biscuits. Annie sipped at her hot chocolate, licking the cream from her lip and savouring the sensation of marshmallows melting in her mouth. When they had all finished, they moved into the living carriage and sat around the fire discussing interview tactics.

The heat of the fire mixed with the fullness she felt made Annie's eyes become heavy. When Finnick saw her eyes shutting, he decided to call it a night. They all headed back to their bedroom carriages and Annie collapsed on her bed before she'd even got out of her reaping dress. She was so tired, she wasn't sure if Finnick coming into her room and tucking her in was a dream or not, but she swore she heard him whisper "goodnight, Annie", his breath hot against her neck.

She woke up the next day just as the skyline of the Capitol crept into view on the horizon.


End file.
